But the owls themselves are not hard to find, silent and on the wing, with their ear tufts flat against their heads… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
In the glare of your mind, be modest. And beholden to what is tactile, and thrilling. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
I know I can walk through the world, along the shore or under the trees, with my mind filled with things of… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Writing a poem ... is a kind of possible love affair between something like the heart (that courageous but also shy factory… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my work, which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
How heron comes It is a negligence of the mind not to notice how at dusk heron comes to the pond and… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
And now I understand something so frightening &wonderful- how the mind clings to the road it knows, rushing through crossroads, sticking like… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
A mind that is lively and inquiring, compassionate, curious, angry, full of music, full of feeling, is a mind full of possible… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Belief isn't always easy. But this much I have learned--- if not enough else--- to live with my eyes open. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
In this universe we are given two gifts: the ability to love and the ability to question. Which are, at the same time, the… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Poetry is one of the original arts, and it began, as did all the fine arts, within the original wilderness of the earth. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
The dream of my life is to lie down by a slow river and stare at the light in the trees - to learn… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“All important ideas must include the trees, the mountains, and the rivers. • To understand many things you must reach out of your own condition.” — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Sometimes I think, were I just a little rougher made, I would go altogether to the woods—to my work entirely, and solitude, a few… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“First Snow The snow began here this morning and all day continued, its white rhetoric everywhere calling us back to why, how, whence such beauty… — mary oliver Copy Share Image
“What can I say that I have not said before? So I’ll say it again. The leaf has a song in it. Stone is… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
There is nothing better than work. Work is also play; children know that. Children play earnestly as if it were work. But people grow… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
